We spend a day changing clothes a dozen times to snap pictures around my apartment, and then at his house, and even at a couple restaurants. It reminds me of that comment from @bennetfanz100 about staying away from guys like Jordan.
She’s so right and so wrong at the same time.
Jordan doesn’t even complain about all the outfit changes; he cheerfully goes along with it all with quips about how ten million dollars buys a lot of goodwill. And when I point out multiple times that I gave his foundation ten million dollars, he shrugs and grins at me.
His grin is addicting.
This is very bad.
Now we’re making hamburgers in my kitchen, taking a video of “us being cute,” in his words, to use for social media later. I watch him move around my kitchen as though he really is comfortable, like he’s done this with me a million times. He’s a good actor, which makes him so perfect for this in more ways than one.
I plug in my tabletop grill and turn to watch him mixing up seasonings into the meat. He’s humming softly under his breath, a song I don’t recognize, and by the beat, I think it might becountry. When he looks up to see me watching, that smile spreads slowly over his lips and I’m tempted to do something more impulsive than even telling Mr. Stevens I’m marrying Jordan.
I’m tempted to kiss him, just to see what it’s like.
That’s an impulse I can ignore, though.
I turn away, pretending he didn’t just catch me ogling, and open the fridge to grab the ingredients for the salad.
“So, the Redhaven Foundation,” I say. “How did that come about?” When I turn back around, Jordan is shaping the meat into patties.
He arches an eyebrow at me. “Bryce Hayes stole a bunch of money.”
I give him a playful shove in the shoulder as I cross to the counter. For the cameras, of course. “I mean, how did you decide to do it?”
Jordan sobers and stares down at the bowl of meat. “We couldn’t do nothing. Baylee, specifically, couldn’t just sit by and watch the town crumble. She felt like it was her fault.”
“Poor Baylee…” I murmur. I’m not naïve enough to think that I can insist that it’s not her fault and that’s that. Of course Bryce Hayes is the one to blame. But sometimes the choices women like Baylee, and me, make let those things happen. It’s hard not to feel responsible. I still sometimes think about how Ellie tried to warn me about Grayson and the way I thought she was just being a bossy big sister. What I wouldn’t do to go back and listen to her.
Jordan grunts in response. I reach toward my phone, which has been recording footage from the counter for the last half hour. I turn it off. I can take some video once he’s cooking the burgers and when we’re putting the meal together. I don’t want him to think that opening up to me about his family has to happen on camera.
“It gave her something to distract her,” he says. “And I would have done anything then to make her feel better.”
“It’s not easy seeing the people you love hurt like that, especially when it happened because of something you did.” I focus on making the salad in front of me the same way Jordan’s methodically making hamburger patties. He has four done now, and there’s still enough for a couple more. I don’t know who’s going to eat all of these.
I squint at Jordan when he’s not paying attention to me. Maybehe’sgoing to eat them all. I’ve watched my huge brothers-in-law eat. They can put away a lot of food.
Jordan looks over at me. “I still can’t convince her that it’s not at least partly her fault.”
“It’ll come eventually,” I assure him. “With supportive people like you in her life, she’ll be able to heal and find peace with what happened.” I drizzle some vinaigrette over the vegetables in the bowl and start tossing it.
“You must see that a lot in your work.” Jordan sets the last hamburger patty on a plate and then moves toward the grill.
It’s sweet of him not to bring up my past directly when we’ve known each other such a short time. But it’s also nice for that not to be the way he sees me, even if the ghost of what happened hovers around us because of the similarities between Baylee and me.
“Yeah,” I say simply.
He puts four of the burgers on the grill, and the smell of the seasonings as the meat starts sizzling makes my mouth water. “I’m excited for you to meet Baylee. Maybe that will be a silver lining,” he says, motioning with the spatula between us. “Her getting to benefit from your wisdom about stuff like this.”
My chest warms. Gaining a friend like Baylee will be nice. I’ve loved the work I’ve done with my firm, and I’m going to miss the women I’ve been able to meet and be a part of their healing, even if I’m ready to move to something different. Finding those relationships in other places will make that transition easier. “I can’t wait to meet her too.”
Once we’re done cooking and plating the food, we eatquickly, only filming ourselves for a few minutes. And even though I enjoy hanging out with Jordan, it’s still a relief when he goes home, taking a couple leftover hamburgers and some salad with him.
It’sbecauseI like it so much that it’s a relief.
Jordan Atkinson is so gorgeous it’s painful, and he even smells good, a musky, sporty scent that’s intoxicating. I could snuggle up to him for hours. Giving in to those impulses is dangerous. Dangerous enough that I should pull the plug on the whole thing. Surely, I could get out of the network contracts in a couple years. Plus, his flirting with me is so second nature, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time.
Guys like that are dangerous with a capital D.
